


Eyes Wide Open

by laireshi



Category: Infamous Iron Man (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Sorcerer Supreme Tony Stark, Time Travel, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-09-25 02:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17112935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi
Summary: Victor von Doom travels to the future to demand some answers from the man claiming to be Sorcerer Supreme Tony Stark.





	Eyes Wide Open

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crait](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crait/gifts).



> I absolutely adore Infamous Iron Man (and also Doom/Tony), so when I saw your prompts, I knew I had to write something!
> 
> This is set at some point after Infamous Iron Man #9 and before Iron Man #600.

Tony's reading a thick, old volume on the theory of simultaneous multi-dimensional magic written in what might be an old language of a race whose brains worked _very_ differently or might be straight up code, ever-changing: Tony has to constantly decipher every each phrase because the cipher key changes. The idea it describes isn't really that interesting on its own, but the very act of reading it, oh, Tony loves logic games like this which can actually keep him engaged.

In other words, Tony's relaxing when he suddenly feels another presence in his workshop, which makes absolutely no sense, because there is no one who can bypass his digital security and magical glyphs.

Correction: there is no one _anymore_. But he has, very recently, gone and met one man who wouldn't need to break in here, who was more than welcome. And who also knew possibly more about time travel than anyone else in the world.

He sets the book down and steels himself.

"Welcome, Victor."

He turns to take him in. Victor's in his Iron Man armour, faceplate securely snapped on, but Tony has an advantage of many, many years of familiarity here. He can see Victor's thrown off by the ease with with which he was let in here.

Tony won't volunteer the answer, even if asked. It won't do. 

"I told you you couldn't be Iron Man." He gets the impression he's being scanned. "I told you who I am, too."

"You cannot expect me to trust the word of an admittedly powerful sorcerer I have never met. That'd be absurd."

"Now, now, Victor. You've approached me first. Very recently in your timeline, too, you really should remember--"

"You speak the truth," Victor interrupts him, abrupt as ever, and there's a hint of wonder even when his voice is distorted by the armour.

He must hate this: a situation where all he has are questions. He's got more problems with control than Tony himself. He's less prone to denial, though, and Tony wonders what kind of answers his genius brain is coming up with.

"Of course I am," he says. "I haven't had a reason to lie to you for a very long time. It's curious, though. All the secrets you'd told me, and you'd never mentioned this little trip in time."

Victor, as always, ignores the line of conversation he doesn't like. "It doesn't surprise me you found a corporeal form again," he says. "The AI is impressive, but the limitations are obvious."

"That was many years ago."

"Enough for you to master the mystical arts," Victor notes. He looks around curiously, moving his head as he scans the shelves full of tomes and magic ingredients interspersed with electrical circuits. He picks up a few things and turns them around in his hands. Tony doesn't stop him.

He's a very good sorcerer these days, and there's a little fact about magic: it's not spontaneous and it's not illogical, no matter what he might have once thought, and mastering it is all, completely, one hundred percent about control. The kind of magic he operates on daily basis needs iron will: not so much to use it. Invoking a spell is comparatively easy. But not giving into the power, not letting it consume you, that's the hard part.

Tony's used the Infinity Gauntlet once. It's similar, except you _can_ just take the Gauntlet off and divide the Gems between many people, and you can't do it when the key to the power is your own brain.

Every second Victor is there in his workshop again is almost too much to bear.

Victor lets his helmet hide in the neckguard of the armour. 

Tony swallows.

His face is smooth, unscarred: this helps push the memories away, if barely. 

"Anthony," Victor says. "You came back in time by some convoluted method to _warn me_. I would have an explanation. _Now_."

"Isn't what you're seeing here an explanation enough?" Tony asks. "You're intelligent, Victor, connect the dots."

"I'm not interested in playing with you--"

"Are you interested in playing _me_?" Tony interrupts. "I haven't said a word about your redemption attempt. I'm fully aware you're sincere in it." Ah, there it is, a slight widening of Victor's eyes in surprise. Lifetime behind a metal mask, mere months without it: he's still not used to schooling his expressions. "You don't need to be Iron Man to achieve it. You _shouldn't_ be."

When has Victor ever listened to an advice that he's given? He always knows best. Tony's aware of the hypocrisy of him thinking that, but really, Victor takes it to the next level.

"Why?"

"At the beginning of this," Tony says, "you told me I needed to trust you. That I would learn to."

"I was right," Victor notes, gesturing around. "Your workshop wards let me pass in. I could've broken them, obviously, but there was no need for that."

"Trust goes both ways, Victor." Tony points at one of the circuits Victor had picked up earlier, a half-assembled repulsor operated by magic and not energy.

"That's the exact kind of magic-technology blend I use in my armour," Victor allows. "It doesn't mean anything. You would be able to reverse-engineer it."

"Reverse-magic it, mostly, but I didn't have to. You taught me." There's a lot he's risking here. This Victor has only just started on his path to make up for his multitude of sins. He doesn't know Tony, not in any way that matters. He's not yet the man Tony remembers. 

If it goes wrong, he never will be.

There are solutions. He could delete Victor's memory, perhaps, and even thinking of it shows he hasn't learnt his lesson with Steve, though Victor would probably kill him if he tried. In another world, Victor von Doom would be the Sorcerer Supreme after Strange. He's never lacked the power.

But Tony hasn't broken every law of magic to travel back in time to now undo it, even if Victor threw a wrench in his plans by showing up here, demanding answers.

He should've known better.

Victor raises his hand, reaching out with a tendril of magic; his personal energy. Tony can't help it: it's only instinct to reach back and tangle his magic with Victor's.

He's giving away too much.

Then again, Victor's not half as intelligent as he claims to be if he hasn't guessed the truth already.

"You love me," Victor says, not pulling his punches. He tilts his head, watching Tony like he'd watch a particularly interesting lab experiment, something about him suddenly enticing.

Victor von Doom used to believe in many things as far as relationships go, Tony knows: admiration, fear, attraction to power, the meeting of minds. They were supposed to be two geniuses working together, the way it'd never quite worked for him and Reed, nothing else.

Is Tony's personal history being rewritten right now? Or had Victor always known they'd end up like this?

Had Victor walked into it with his eyes wide open?

Now _that_ would be fascinating.

"You're trying to warn me about some tragedy because you feel guilty," Victor says. "Another thing you failed to prevent. What stopped you? The so-called morals? You still seek me out to change something instead of using the Cosmic Cube." Victor's eyes are disdainful. Tony hasn't seen him that cold in a long time.

But he must know he's speaking of his own death that Tony couldn't fix in time.

"All that magic around you," Victor says, "but you never change."

Tony flinches, closing his eyes in pain.

He misses Victor moving across the room to him; only snapping his eyes open at the touch of hand on his face. When Victor kisses him, Tony's not sure if it's cruelty or kindness.

"I'm my own man, Stark," Victor says.

"Always," Tony agrees, somehow stopping himself from chasing after Victor's lips. "And yet."

"And yet," Victor echoes, like he's considering the possibility.

His mask snaps back in place, and then he's gone.


End file.
